The One That Got Away
by Zenkx
Summary: Dexter meets a woman who will make him experience something new in his serial killer's life. Adult themed due to it's graphic nature.
1. Author's Notes

**AUTHOR'S NOTES**

**Well, this is my first Dexter fanfiction. So forgive me if I wasn't able to write it well. I haven't had the honor of being able to read the Dexter books (lack of stupid funds ~_~) and the Dexter TV shows here are mainly reruns of past seasons (darn it).**

**Please be reminded that this story is kind of gruesome and should only be read by people 18 years old and above.**

**Dexter and other characters of the TV/Book series are the intellectual property of Jeff Lindsay.**


	2. Chapter 1

There she was… sitting by the seashore, her silver blond hair blowing against the wind. She was staring out into the dark ocean, her eyes seemingly sad. It was enough to fool anyone, including me.

But I know who she really is. I know what she did. And I know what she deserves for doing it.

I slip behind her, injecting the needle point of my syringe into her neck, and she collapsed to me with a small gasp. Her hair came contact with my nose, and I smelled green apples.

She was light, like any slim woman, and her office suit didn't do her justice. Any woman who wore long skirts with boots ought to be arrested.

I took her for a drive in my car, into my wood lodge, where her punishment awaits. This is how I do justice. No lawyers. No jury. No court.

Just the guilty under the point of my knife.

She was still unconscious as I stripped her. She was wearing some silky negligee underneath her office clothes, and… My God, she had a body that rivaled Rita's. She was a well –tanned woman, and much endowed, too. But I am not here to romance her.

I had just finished covering the whole cabin and her whole body in plastic when she opened her eyes. They were blue, the color of the ocean she was staring at in the middle of an afternoon. She blinked several times and squinted at the harsh light I had placed in front of her. She wanted to turn, but she couldn't because my plastic limited her movement. The swell of her breasts rose and fell as she started to feel fear into her system.

I loved it more.

"Who… who are you?!" She almost yelled, still breathing heavily.

"Scream all you want. Nobody can hear you." I said, as I walked around her, holding my knife, "I am… justice. I am here to serve your sentence for killing and burning 4 men and a woman."

She turned a little, seeing the wall behind me, where I've posted the investigation pictures of 4 men and a woman who were burned in an arson case a couple of years ago. It was a cold case, because there were not enough evidence, but she was accused of doing it, if it weren't for her alibi.

She closed her eyes and swallowed, "You have come to kill me then?"

"Yes." I said.

Strangely, she took a calming breath, and when she opened her eyes, they held a look of tranquility. Her lips curved into a small smile as she said, "Then go ahead. I have nothing to look forward to in this life anyway."

I must have been quiet for a good five minutes, just looking at this woman. _Go ahead_, she says, like she was really looking forward to die. It was very curious case, I've never met anyone in my table who accepted death.

Not to mention that it took the fun out of killing.

"What do you mean?" I asked, encircling her, "Aren't you afraid to die? I am a serial killer, I'm here to kill you, and you _accept_?"

She breathed in deep, her once-afraid eyes now becoming sad again, "Yes. I am afraid… and yes, I accept it." She turned toward the wall of pictures again, "But I regret nothing. Those men… deserved what they got. And if this is the punishment that I should receive, then I will."

"Deserved, you say?" I asked again, "Is there something in the reports you didn't tell us? Now that I think about it, you were never convicted because you had an alibi."

She chuckled sadly, "I did. But nobody ever realized it was fake. They were very powerful men. They had a lot of money, just as much as they had enemies. I was one of them, but they lack evidence.." She turned to where my voice was coming from, even though she couldn't see my face. "Would you like to hear my story? How I killed them?"

I had to smile at the irony of it. "You are going to confess to serial killer?"

She seemed to shrug under her plastic coating, "Unless you wish to call a priest and then kill him too."

Hmm. That idea hit me. I would never kill the innocent, especially a man of the cloth.

"Tell you what…" she whispered, "Hear me confess. After that, you can plunge your knife in me and do whatever you want. Is that a deal?"

This time I chuckled, "Dealing with a serial killer. You must really be desperate if you're doing this."

She smiled a bit, "I have hidden the truth for so long. It's about time somebody found out the truth, even if it was a serial killer such as you."

This is very intriguing, yet confusing as well. This is the first time someone willingly accepted death on my table, and someone who wishes to tell their story to me. Very intriguing… this might be a ruse to keep me from delaying her death, but then again, when she's done, death will still come.

"Okay." I said, laying my knife down, a good distance away from her, "I'll take that deal."

She smiled again, "Thank you." I stood behind her leaning against a plastic covered wall. I sighed, and then she sighed, as she began her story.


	3. Chapter 2

"It all began when I met him… my fiancé. He was a good man, very stable. He was a lawyer, working for a famous law firm. I was just his secretary, but a few months since we started working together, he started taking me out on dates, going to movies with him, even going to galas and conventions with him. I loved it. I loved the glamour, the work, and basically just being around with him. I gave him everything that a woman could give… her time, her attention… her body. I loved him very much, and I wanted to marry him."

"A few years ago, I told him that. And he became… enraged. He slapped me, and told me to get out of his sight. He fired me from my secretarial job, and made sure that I never got any vacant position in that firm again. It made me very sad, but… I got over it soon enough. I was able to get a new job, and I didn't pay attention to him after the next few months."

"But three months later, I went to the doctor and found out I was pregnant. I knew it was his. It never slept with anybody except him in my entire life. I went to his office and told him about it. He grew quiet when I told him everything. He… he said he was sorry. It turns out that he was married, but he had no children. He said he loved his wife, and that he was willing to buy my baby from him. I told him no. I wanted the raise my child on my own. It was my child… mine and his… and if he didn't want anything to do with it, then I'll raise it on my own. I left his office before he could say anything else."

"So I carried my baby in my womb for nine months. I found out it was a boy, and I immediately wanted to think of a name for him. I started buying clothes for him, and made a room for him in my apartment. I loved the thought of being a mom, even if I hated his father. It was… all that I could hope for."

"But one night, as I was shopping, four men jumped me in an alley. They grabbed my arms, my legs… and they kept me down. They said they've always had a fetish for pregnant women. I felt sick. I wanted to scream but one of them gagged my mouth. I could feel my baby kicking in my womb. It was feeling the fear that I was in. The men… then tore off my clothes. They took turns raping me. They didn't care that I was pregnant. They didn't care that I had a baby in me. They just… did it."

"Afterwards, I was already crying torrents, feeling violated. Then there was pain. I screamed and screamed as I felt something cutting up my belly. The men merely laughed. I looked down and realized what was happening."

"One of the men had cut open my belly with a knife and had taken my baby directly from my womb. He held it in a blanket, and I raised my eyes to my assailant. It was him… my baby's father… holding up the knife and my son in his arms. I looked at him, and he looked… enraged… like a demon. He looked at me, and said, 'My wife… told me to get the baby from you, no matter what. You don't deserve this baby. You were just a whore to me.'"

"I raised my hand up to reach for my son, but when I did, one of the men hit my face. I looked around at the other men, and that's when I realized who they were. They were my former coworkers, other lawyers who worked in the law firm. As it turned out they were best friends with the man who gutted me."

"Then as suddenly as they came, they left me… and I was left bleeding in the pavement. A woman heard me crying, and she was able to call an ambulance for me. I didn't remember much of my hospitalization. Only I was in great pain, and the morphine was my only comfort."

"My mother looked after me. I told her what had happened, and we tried to go to court against them. But we failed. They had already disposed of the evidence during the time I was rushed into the hospital, and they hid my child so that the police couldn't find him. I was deemed insane, psychologically unstable. My case lost. And the four men walked free… and laughing."

"I spent a year in an asylum. They thought I was crazy, but I wasn't. I did my best to act like I was 'cured' so I could get out earlier and it worked. I stayed only for a year in the asylum before they considered me 'cured'."

"The moment I got out, I did my research. My son was taken here, to Miami, by his father. He and the firm had set up a base here, and I followed. It was as if some higher power wanted me to succeed, because I later found out that my son was taken to a day care center everyday, while both his parents worked in the firm."

"The plan was executed easier than I thought, and the coincidences that happened made it better. That day, I told my mother that I was sleeping early because of a headache. I made my bed, so that a mannequin was lying on it, wearing a wig with the same shade as my hair. It really looked like I was there on the bed sleeping. When I was done, I put on my coat and a wig and headed to the office. There was a kitchen at the bottom of the small building where the law firm was, and it was easy for me to put a rig on the gas oven. I left after I finished the rig, and returned to my bed at home. Of course, the gas tank blew up, and the flames consumed the building, incinerating everything and everyone. My baby's father… his wife…and the three other pigs who raped me. They all died in the explosion."

"And as you know, it was a media frenzy. I was made a suspect, because I had a case against him. But in the end, they blamed it on some terrorist group that had a major case battle with the firm at the time of my bombing. Not to mention that I had an alibi, because as it turned out, my mother took a peek in my bedroom and saw 'me' sleeping during the time of the explosion."

"So I was free… and my son was brought to a nearby orphanage, because his father and adoptive mother had no other relatives. I adopted him, even though he was my own flesh and blood. My mother knew of my adoption, but she doesn't know about my bombing. She still says that God had made a way for me."

"I was contemplating everything I had done for my son, when I was sitting by the beach. Have I done the wrong thing, or was it right? My son deserves to have a good life, and I was wondering if I could give it to him, knowing that I killed his father. I was thinking about what would happen if he found out the truth, when you… inserted the needle to my back. I was thinking about how my son would judge me when he grows up."

"But I guess I won't have to think about it now… since you will be my judge, jury and executioner…"


	4. Chapter 3

I inhaled deeply. I must've stopped breathing while this woman was telling her story. Tears ran down her face now, but she wasn't afraid anymore.

She was relieved.

Having killed many for justice, I could understand what she's feeling. It was always a question of is this right or is this wrong. It's a debate I always have to think about when I'm choosing my victims.

I guess this time, I haven't done my research very well.

The only crime this woman has committed is love. She loved her son very much… so much that she killed the man who gave him to her. There was a bit of anger in it too, but…

Maybe, if I was in her shoes… I would probably do the same.

She swallowed, "So what do you think? Do you still think that I'm evil?"

I took a breath before I answered, "No. But you shouldn't have done what you did."

She laughed suddenly, "Then it would seem you made the wrong decision, too."

She had a good point. I have been killing for justice, for my own addiction. I know that it is wrong, but I still do it. For the thrill. For the rush. For the adrenaline. And she did what she had to, for revenge… and for the love of her son.

We were no different from each other.

I cannot kill this woman. But I cannot let her know me either. To kill or not to kill, that became my new issue. If I let her live, she might know about me and blurt me to the police. If I kill her, her son would lose a mother who would guide him in life, like my father had in mine.

This is becoming quite a dilemma for me.

I thrust a new syringe into her, quicker than she could react. She slumped again, unconscious, on my table. This is better. I could think about what I should do to her.

I still wanted to kill her. I really did. Dexter the Monster wants blood, but Dexter the Human tells me otherwise. Two sides of the same coin, debating inside my head… and it was starting to give me a headache.

I raised my scalpel, and slowly, I sliced a small bit of flesh on her scalp. Blood got collected in my scalpel, and I gingerly placed it on a glass slide that was near me. I put another slide on it, protecting the precious blood. I looked at it, starting at the small red pool of life, and finally, the argument inside my head was finished.

Looks like Dexter the Human won this round.


	5. Chapter 4

The doors of the elevator finally opened, welcoming me with cold, because the streets outside were hot and humid with the summer heat. I'm pretty sure the donuts I'm carrying with me were baked once again by the heat.

"Hey Dex!"

Debra came running toward me, holding a clipboard and a smile on her face. I smiled back, and opened the box of donuts. She quickly took one, and took a bite out of it.

"It seems to me that you haven't had breakfast yet." I said with a smirk.

"Nope." She said, still chewing on the doughnut, "Got a new case here. By the way, a package came for you. I had Masuka place it on your desk." And with that she hurried back to LaGuerta's office.

I headed to my lab, where a large rectangular box sat, held together by a red ribbon. I looked around, looking for Masuka, but thankfully he was still talking to Batista outside the hallway. I put the box of donuts down, and pulled at the ribbon.

Inside was another long, rectangular plastic box, which contained three roses, and a box of what seem to be… donuts again. An envelope lay above them, and after making sure that Masuka was still chatting with Batista, I slit it open with a scalpel and opened it.

_Dear Mr. Morgan,_

_Yes, I knew who you were. When you knocked me out and stuffed me in your trunk, there was a brief moment when I was conscious, and I was able to see your name in you ID. Well…actually, I saw your last name. But when I asked the station about you, they said the only male Morgan they had was you. _

_I wanted to thank you… for not killing me, I guess. I told you once that I wasn't afraid to die, but after what happened to us, it made me realize that my son needed me, and to have done everything I did for him would've been in vain if I accepted death so easily. Thank you so much again. _

_We… my son and I…have left Miami. By the time you read this letter, we would be in Canada, with a few distant relatives. I believe that we need a new start, and I am hoping that here, we can have it._

_And lastly, now that you know my secret, please, keep it, as I will keep your secret to the grave. Our meeting has taught me so much, and it is something I shall cherish for the rest of my life. I will never, ever tell our chance meeting with anyone. Your secret is safe with me, I promise you._

_I wish you good health and good luck, and with the hopes that should we meet ever again, it would involve coffee, instead of anesthetics or any other drug._

_Sincerely yours,_

_The One That Got Away_

'The One That Got Away'? Not very imaginative in naming herself, but it's the truth. She's the only one who got away from certain death at my table. And for the first time, I don't regret letting her go. I guess, I have learned a little something from our meeting as well. Like maybe, researching a little better about my victims.

After work, I placed the roses she gave me on a vase in my kitchen. I walked to the stove, and carefully burned the letter, to make sure that it will never be read by anyone.

I headed over my air conditioner, where I kept my box of glass slides, each containing the blood samples of those whom I've killed… the blood of the guilty. I took the glass slide of 'The One That Got Away', wrapped gingerly on a piece of tissue and I was about to place with the others when I realized that this blood sample should never come close to tainted blood. This blood might seem like the blood of the guilty, but for me, it was the blood of the innocent.

So I placed the glass slide at the other end of the box, a few inches away from the others, where it'll be kept clean. I closed the lid on the box again, and replaced it back on my air conditioner.

And here ends the story of the one that got away, the one who cheated death. And the one who made me thirst for more blood…


End file.
